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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30113328">curiosity killed the cat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactlyemma/pseuds/exactlyemma'>exactlyemma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>soulmates and stars [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Established Relationship, F/F, Inhumans (Marvel), Not Canon Compliant, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, not the show but yknow, sad lonely jemma hours, will update tags as the story continues need be</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:47:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30113328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactlyemma/pseuds/exactlyemma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>... But satisfaction brought it back." That's what Daisy's always been told. She was an inquisitive child, one difficult to manage if she was bored, with a lot of questions on seemingly random topics. Like the stars. It was relatively harmless as a child, when all she wanted to know was why tulips only bloomed in spring. It's harder to quell as an adult, when the questions are bigger and have repercussions. </p><p>Daisy's happy with her life. Happy with Jemma, happy to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.. But when she finds an altered version of her personal file with some startling adjustments, she starts asking herself some questions. Big ones, with answers that date back further than herself. And she will find the answers, even if it means leaving her happy life. The question is: Will she survive the answers?</p><p>(sequel to colors of the rainbow)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May &amp; Skye | Daisy Johnson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>soulmates and stars [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2225643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. asking the questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>note that this takes place pre-skye, pre marriage, pre engagement, but i guess around the time that daisy and jemma meet piper in colors of the rainbow? like a little after that. also i will be ignoring the avengers movies (and aos) canon in favor of whatever the fuck i feel like. i am my own thanos. all the ~real shield~ stuff with bobbi and mack is going to be ignored as well &lt;3</p>
<p>me at the end of colors of the rainbow: considering a sequel<br/>four people: a sequel would be cool!<br/>me, opening a new document and beginning to type: well what can i say gotta appease the fans</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As much as Daisy enjoys field work, she does miss training from time to time. Mostly the feeling of knowing that, no matter how badly she messed up, it was only a training simulation, nothing bad was actually happening. </p><p>It’s times like these that she misses the safety net of training.</p><p>“What’s up?” Bobbi asks, glancing at Daisy from her seat in the pilot’s chair.</p><p>Daisy sighs again, checking her armor and gun for the hundredth time. “I just have a bad feeling about this. The description was so vague, it just feels like…”</p><p>“Like they’re hiding something?” Bobbi finishes knowingly.</p><p>Daisy nods, setting her jaw. “I hate feeling like I’m being used.”</p><p>Bobbi barks out a humorless laugh. “Well, get used to it, that’s a lot of being a field agent. Doing missions for an outcome you aren’t aware of until it happens. Clearance and levels and all.”</p><p>“I miss being twelve and hearing all that at the dinner table,” Daisy says, slumping in her seat.</p><p>“Not many agents have that advantage, you know.”</p><p>“<em>Twelve</em>,” Daisy emphasizes. The amount of times her parents have looked at her sympathetically and said, “That’s classified” since she’s officially become an agent is another sore spot. “It’s like, when I first started at the academy I only ever wanted anyone to treat me like just another agent. Now they do, and I kinda miss it.”</p><p>Bobbi’s brows furrow. “Miss what, exactly?”</p><p>“I dunno. Being Melinda May and Phil Coulson’s kid. A reputation that precedes me. I know it’s really my parents and not me, but people treated me differently.”</p><p>Bobbi nods thoughtfully. “Johnson, huh? Where’d that come from?”</p><p>Daisy shrugs, thinking about the name now plastered on her ID card, replacing her beloved <em>"Coulson-May"</em>. “No real story behind it. It was the name I used for college. Not S.H.I.E.L.D. academy, but actual degree college. I know I can’t expect to have just the good and not the bad of the experience, but it was kinda nice having people be intimidated by me just from hearing my name.”</p><p>“So you miss the power?”</p><p>Daisy tilts her head in thought. “I guess? Some of it, anyway. You know what I don’t miss? People asking if my mom was really <em>‘The Cavalry’</em>. That was annoying.”</p><p>Bobbi scoffs. “Tell me about it. The amount of men who refused to believe that Agent 19 was a woman.”</p><p>“They’re just upset because they got their asses handed to them on a silver platter.”</p><p>Bobbi cracks a grin. “That, too. I did kick their asses pretty good. I was also undercover, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. We’ll be on the ground in five.”</p><p>Daisy checks the security of herself and her firearm again to take up the time, finishing in time to join Bobbi in the co-pilot’s seat to watch as Bobbi maneuver’s the quinjet through the clouds and into a clearing in the woods a short distance from the abandoned building Daisy’s meant to infiltrate. She takes a steadying breath as the quinjet thumps gently on the forest floor.</p><p>This is always the hardest part of field work. Before things get in motion, before the adrenaline kicks in. When it’s just Daisy in her mind, which is, more often than not, telling her she won’t be able to do it.</p><p>“Alright,” Bobbi says, lowering the ramp to the quinjet. She holds a finger to her ear. “Testing comms, agents Fitz and Simmons, can you hear me?”</p><p>Daisy hastily turns on the device in her own ear, just in time to hear Jemma announcing that she can hear Bobbi loud and clear, Fitz mumbling his agreement.</p><p>Bobbi nods with a sigh of finality. “Okay. Daisy?”</p><p>Daisy ignores the echo of Bobbi’s words coming through her comm and nods. “Testing comms, can anyone hear me?”</p><p>Bobbi gives her a thumbs up, so Daisy unbuckles her seatbelt and gets to her feet, feeling once more for her gun. </p><p>“Wish me luck,” she says as she descends the ramp.</p><p>“Good luck,” Bobbi says, sounding a little like she means it. “And Daisy? Don’t die.”</p><p>Daisy nearly stumbles in surprise. “Thanks.” </p><p>There's a smile on her face as her boots crunch onto the pine needles covering the forest floor. She can make out the cracked walls of the building she's meant to infiltrate in the distance. She takes a final deep breath and steps forward. She has a mission to take care of.

</p><p>&lt;&gt;</p><p>The abandoned building proves disappointingly empty. It’s weirdly sterile inside for a building that’s been abandoned for over fifty years, a distinct lack of dust and any overall clutter that tends to gather from <em>fifty years</em> of abandonment. The windows are intact, the floors appear swept. </p><p>'<em>Abandoned</em>' isn’t wrong, though. Daisy walks through the front door ready to fight off a small army, and instead finds an empty warehouse but for a mouse scuttling across the floor. The mouse gives her a good scare and some good teasing material for Fitz, but, other than that, the place is deserted. </p><p>Following instructions from Fitzsimmons, who have access to a 3d map of the building back at the base, she finds the appropriate staircase and following hallways, all of which are hospital-white and drearily metal. Really, Daisy’s just disappointed in whoever appointed the remodel. Their tastes are so boring.</p><p>She walks up three sets of stairs and down four different hallways before she finds anyone. She slips through another door, beginning to expect to find it empty again, but, this time there’s people dressed all in black meandering the long, white, boring hallway, who all jump to attention the minute they see Daisy.</p><p>She grins as those closest to her go in for an attack. <em>This</em> she could get used to.</p><p>The guards go down easy. A small part of Daisy wonders if it was too easy, but Daisy tells that part of her to shut up. Maybe she’s just getting better.</p><p>
  <em>“Agent Johnson, check-in?”</em>
</p><p>Daisy rolls her eyes as she completes her scan of the room. “It’s just us, Fitz. You can drop the pseudonym.”</p><p>Fitz’s voice rings into her ears again, the snark dripping off his tone. <em>“Bloody idiot, then. Check-in.”</em></p><p>“Uncalled for,” Daisy protests, stepping over one of the unconscious bodies towards the sterile white double doors. “They went down easy, I’m in the clear.”</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, you would be if you were in the right hallway.”</em>
</p><p>Daisy pauses. “What?”</p><p>
  <em>“I need you on the fifth on the left, you’re on the fourth.”</em>
</p><p>Daisy curses as she turns around. “Well, Fitz, what do you expect of me, to be able to count to ten?”</p><p>
  <em>“It was foolish of me to assume a five-year-old's levels of math were in your repertoire, I know.”</em>
</p><p>She checks the hallway for vacancy before stepping out in the reflection of the glass, only daring to move once she’s sure it’s empty.</p><p><em>“Ugh, Fitz. Be nice.”</em> Jemma’s voice drifts into Daisy’s ears, her shoulders easing even as she kicks open the door to the <em>fifth</em> on the left.</p><p>
  <em>“I gave her very specific instructions and she blew it, Simmons, what more can I do?”</em>
</p><p>Daisy leaps into the fifth hallway on the left, hands up and ready for the bodies to start flying at her. Nothing. </p><p>No. Not nothing. Worse than nothing, the hallway is completely deserted. Not a single person from door to door. Daisy clears her throat to silence Fitzsimmons bickering in her ears.</p><p>“Guys?”</p><p><em>“This is only our fifth mission working together as a unit outside the Bus and we’re still getting our bearings,”</em> Jemma’s saying, her usual logical, chipper self.</p><p>
  <em>“But all she had to do was count to five! She can take down an entire room of people but not count to five?”</em>
</p><p>Daisy speaks louder. “Guys!”</p><p>
  <em>“Ugh, Fitz-”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t ‘ugh, Fitz’ me now!”</em>
</p><p><em>“Guys!”</em> </p><p>They finally fall silent.</p><p>Daisy clears her throat and looks around the room. “Uh, you’ve got eyes on me, right?”</p><p><em>“We’ve got access to the feed from your bodycam…”</em> Fitz says, the piece in Daisy’s ear picking up the clacking of his keyboard as he pulls up the feed.</p><p><em>“Ah,”</em> says Jemma, signaling Daisy into the fact that they can now see her doing a slow turn about the empty hallway. <em>“Well… that’s a development. Fitz are you sure it was the fifth corridor and not the fourth?”</em></p><p><em>“</em>I <em>can bloody well count, Simmons. Yes, it said five.”</em></p><p>“Do they know we’re here or something?”</p><p>Jemma scoffs. <em>“Well, that’s impossible. Perhaps they’re confident we’re not coming?”</em></p><p>“So they guard one hallway and not the other?”</p><p><em>“It could be a trick,” </em>Fitz says. <em>“Keep going. We’ll finish the mission. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll know something else was at play.”</em></p><p>Daisy takes a deep breath and cracks her knuckles, approaching the next set of doors. “Okay, here I go. Wish me luck.”</p><p>
  <em>“Good luck learning to count to six, I know how hard it’s been.”</em>
</p><p>It’s the last thing Daisy hears before she slips through the next set of doors.</p><p>This time it’s a relief to find an empty room, because Daisy would have had to come back as a ghost to haunt Fitz for all of eternity of those were the last words she ever heard.</p><p><em>“How strange,” </em>Jemma comments. <em>“It really is as if they knew we were coming.”</em></p><p>Daisy starts a lap around the room, looking around with furrowed eyebrows. She catches sight of photos taped to the wall above the only furniture in the room, a wooden desk and a chair.</p><p>More like they knew <em>she</em> was coming.</p><p>Daisy leans towards the photos on the wall and the strings connecting them. The pictures of <em>her</em>. At the academy, training alongside Natasha, getting lunch with Jemma. “Jemma, you seeing this?”</p><p><em>"Seeing what?”</em> Jemma asks.<em> “Fitz, if you’d pull up the… oh. Hmm.”</em>/p&gt;

</p><p>
  <em>“Bloody hell, is that you?”</em>
</p><p>Daisy looks away from the photos, re-scans the room. A shiver runs down her spine. “It seems that way.” She shakes her head. “Remind me why I’m here?”</p><p><em>“Classified information on a thumb drive,”</em> Fitz says. <em>“File doesn’t say what the information is, just that it’s important.”</em></p><p>“Hence classified?”</p><p>
  <em>Hence classified.”</em>
</p><p>Daisy puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not seeing any computers that have thumb drives in them.”</p><p>The sound of keyboards clicking away fills Daisy’s ears. <em>“Working on it.”</em></p><p>The door creaks, and Daisy looks to see a man walk through, smiling widely and with his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. He looks ordinary until Daisy gets to his face. Because on his face, where his eyes should be, there are none. Not even empty eye sockets. Just a blank expanse of skin. It’s unnerving. “There are no computers, Daisy,” he says, and his grin almost looks manic. How this stranger knows her name Daisy doesn’t know. He removes a small device from his pocket. A thumb drive. <em>The</em> thumb drive? “Just this,” he holds up the thumb drive, “and you, and me.”</p><p>“And my gun.” Daisy removes it from the holster, aiming without hesitation. She doesn’t finger the trigger yet, though. No sense in harming a blind man who is seemingly innocent. Daisy doubts his innocence, though, since he seems to be well informed. He also has the thing it’s her mission to obtain, and how he got it she has no clue. He’s a threat, nonetheless.</p><p><em>“Running him through facial recognition software.”</em> Jemma’s voice is tight, the way it gets when Daisy’s in danger.</p><p>Daisy's heart beats in her throat. She doesn't like being in danger, if only because it makes Jemma upset. </p><p>The man tuts, as if he’s disappointed in her. “Now, now, Daisy, no need to get violent. We just want to talk.”</p><p>Daisy doesn’t lower the gun. “We?”</p><p>“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know. I’m Gordon. We had a great thing going on here, you know, then your S.H.I.E.L.D. found us and we had to relocate. We left you clues, though, I see you found them. I have some friends I’d love for you to meet.”</p><p>“You’re gonna have to start giving me details, here, buddy, because you’re sounding more like my old pot dealer than someone I want to have a talk with.” </p><p>Both Fitz and Simmons gasp over comms. <em>“Daisy!”</em></p><p>Gordon smiles again. It’s especially unnerving with his lack of eyes. “Of course. If you’d just allow me…” he takes a few steps forward, puts the thumb drive on the ground, and slides it forward. It clinks against Daisy’s boot.</p><p>She leans down to pick it up, careful to keep the gun aimed at him as she does so. She pockets the thumb drive and returns her full attention to Gordon, or whoever this strange man--being?-- is. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot you right here and now.”</p><p>He chuckles. “I think you misunderstood me. You won’t be shooting me today, Daisy. No, no, no. You run along home with that thumb drive and show it to your parents. They’ll want to see it. You will too, I expect. My contact information is on it for when you want to reach out. And you will want to reach out. All you have to do is call me, and I’ll be there. See you soon.”</p><p>Gordon vanishes in a flash of blue light right as Daisy unleashes a bullet into the wall where he was standing not a moment ago.</p><p>“What the… guys?”</p><p>
  <em>“I know, I know, the facial recognition software’s being a bit slow… damn! No matches.”</em>
</p><p>Daisy takes a shaky breath, walking over to the ground where Gordon is no longer, gaping. “Fitz, please tell me you saw that.”</p><p>
  <em>“If you’re talking about that man disappearing like a damn magician, then yes, I saw that.”</em>
</p><p><em> “Luckily for us, your body cam records everything, so we do have proof of that happening," </em>Jemma says.</p><p>“I got the thumb drive,” Daisy says, reaching into her pocket and fingering the metal piece. “Despite the overall weirdness of this situation, the mission is technically finished.”</p><p><em>“Go, Daisy,”</em> Jemma says, the urgency in her voice tangible. <em>“We should get a look at whatever’s on that thumb drive as soon as possible.”</em></p><p><em>“Maybe check it for explosives,”</em> Fitz mumbles.</p><p>Daisy doesn’t encounter a single foe on her way out. Down the fifth hallway on the left, back out into the hallway with all the sterile white doors, down three sets of stairs, and four hallways and out the front doors of the seemingly abandoned building.</p><p>“Well?” Bobbi is waiting as Daisy walks onto the quinjet. </p><p>She straps herself into the co-pilot’s chair, shaking her head. “I’m not dead. And I got the thumb drive.”</p><p>She squints, sensing Daisy's unease. “What else?”</p><p>“It was weird. I don’t really feel like trying to explain it. You’ll see the footage at debrief.”</p><p>Bobbi nods, and presses the button that closes the quinjet’s ramp. The ride is quiet and peaceful. They don’t encounter any air attacks, the trip is smooth sailing.</p><p>Normally Daisy would count that as a lucky ride.</p><p>Now she’s not so sure.</p><p>They’re not much more than three hours away, but nothing does more to ease Daisy’s nerves than hugging Jemma.</p><p>“You scared me,” Jemma says as she holds Daisy to her chest.</p><p>“Kind of in the job description, babe,” Daisy returns with a smirk.</p><p>Jemma pinches her back. “Still.”</p><p>Daisy smiles and pats Jemma on the back. “I’m here now. And I got the thumb drive.”</p><p>“And now,” Bobbi says at Daisy’s heels, “you owe me an explanation.”</p><p>Daisy grimaces. “That I do.”</p><p>Daisy relays the mission’s events to Fitzsimmons, Mack, Bobbi, and her dad. The latter calls her mom and makes his monthly request for her to visit out of the blue. She says she’ll be there within the hour, and it takes every crumb of Daisy’s willpower not to smash the thumb drive into any computer before her mom is being led down the hallway and into the room, a grim expression on her face.</p><p>Daisy looks between them. “Ready?”</p><p>They both nod, her dad looking anxious, her mom stoic. The lifted chin suggests curiosity, a small amount of nerves.</p><p>Daisy pauses, her hand hovering over the computer, looking at Fitzsimmons and Bobbi. “Uh, do you think we could have a minute?”</p><p>Bobbi leaves with a smirk, Fitz shaking his head, Jemma shooting Daisy a ‘good luck’ smile. Daisy’s heart aches to see her go, but they both know Daisy won’t be able to keep anything important from Jemma for long.</p><p>“Okay.” Daisy breathes heavily. “Here goes nothing.” She plugs the thumb drive into the computer. The files take a minute to load, and then…</p><p>“That’s weird.” Her dad picks up the computer and scrolls. “This is just your personal file. How did they get this? It’s top security stuff.”</p><p>“Hang on.” Daisy takes the computer back and scrolls up a page marked with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo and what appears to be a transcript. “What’s that?”</p><p>She hands the laptop to her parents and gives them a minute to read.</p><p>“I… can honestly say I’ve never seen that before in my life.” Her dad shakes his head. “I have no idea.”</p><p>Daisy takes the computer back and skims the page. “‘’The girl was the 084’,” she reads aloud. “Is that <em>me</em>?”</p><p>“Agents getting ‘crossed off’,” her dad says. “I don’t like the sound of this.”</p><p>Her mom’s jaw tightens. “Keep scrolling.”</p><p>The next page looks scanned, and on it is written only, <em>“If you want to find out more, you know how to find me. -Gordon”</em>.</p><p>Daisy swallows thickly and puts down the computer. “What does this mean?”</p><p>Her mom removes the thumb drive from laptop. “It means that whoever this Gordon is, he knows more about your past than we do. And he’s dangerous.”</p><p>Daisy snorts. “I thought danger was implied.”</p><p>“Can’t hurt to emphasize it now and then when lives are at stake.” </p><p>“Lives?” Daisy looks between them, nearly laughing from nerves and disbelief. “Whose lives?”</p><p>Her mom’s eyes twitch in a barely visible motion. “Yours.”</p><p>&lt;&gt;</p><p>“So they think you’re the baby discussed?” Jemma asks, handing the laptop back to Daisy.</p><p>“Uh-huh.” Daisy takes the thumb drive out of the laptop, getting sick of looking at the files. “Is it even possible for a human to be an 084?”</p><p>“I’ve never heard of it,” Jemma says. “But that doesn’t necessarily make it impossible.”</p><p>Daisy sighs. “Right.” She looks at the clock; just past eleven. A little early for a night off, but Daisy can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Maybe some sleep could do her good. “I think I’m gonna head to bed. Care to join me?”</p><p>Jemma’s eyes glint. “As lovely as that sounds, Dee, I’ve got to work with Fitz on seeing if we can identify that man.”</p><p>“Okay.” Daisy yawns. “You have fun, I guess. See you in the morning?”</p><p>Jemma smiles and caresses Daisy’s cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning, Dee. Sleep well.”</p><p>The chances of that happening are extremely low. Daisy smiles anyway. “Thanks, Jemma. I love you.”</p><p>“I love you, too.” Jemma kisses Daisy on the forehead and leaves, leaving Daisy to drown in her brain.</p><p>She sits a while more, letting her mind drift, picturing a village’s worth of people dying, all to protect someone as of little importance as her. She pictures a baby girl so messed up they call her an 084. What could be so wrong with her that she’d be identified as something of unknown origin? Wasn’t she born of an act of love, like everyone else? What else could a person be?</p><p>Daisy gets to her feet with a sigh, dragging herself to go back to her room. She doesn’t really want to go to sleep, but the questions are getting overwhelming and she’s going to do something irrational if it doesn’t stop soon.</p><p>It shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does to see her mom sitting in contemplative silence on her bed.</p><p>“Jeez, Mom.” </p><p>Her mom arches an eyebrow. “You could have knocked.”</p><p>Daisy has to bite her lip to hold back her smile. She puts her laptop down and peels off the protective jacket she wears in the field. The pants go next, leaving her in leggings and a tank top.</p><p>“Care to enlighten me as to why you’re here?” she asks, sitting on the chair across from her mom.</p><p>“I wanted to check on you,” she says, her voice flat. “Make sure you aren’t doing anything stupid like trying to reach out to that man.”</p><p>She doesn’t have to specify which man. The hair on the back of her neck stands up just thinking about him. It’s strange and irrational, but it almost makes her think Gordon can feel it when she thinks about him.</p><p>“I’m not stupid, Mom,” she says, picking at a loose string on her pants. “I’m not going to try and find him.”</p><p>“I know you’re not stupid, Daisy. You’re curious, though. And I don’t want you to let your curiosity get the better of you this time. Some questions are better left unanswered.”</p><p>The room goes blurry as Daisy speaks. “I know, Mom.”</p><p>They sit in silence for what feels like a millennia, then, in classic Melinda May style, her mom gets up, kisses Daisy on the forehead, and walks out the door. It shuts behind her silently, as if even it understands that Melinda May travels in silence, basic functions be damned.</p><p>Daisy showers the grime and grief of the mission away, letting the fresh tears she sheds as she goes go down the drain along with them. An entire village. All to protect one little girl. Her? More importantly: Why? Why would they do that? What made her so important that they would go to those lengths to protect her?</p><p>An entire village died, and their blood was on her hands. Didn’t she owe it to them to find out what exactly happened to her? Didn’t all those people deserve peace? She probably owed them her life, the least Daisy could do was find out what they died for. What kind of secret about herself was so deep she didn’t even know it?</p><p>Jemma still isn't back by the time Daisy’s out of the shower. She sits on their bed, scrolling through her laptop, thumb drive plugged back in.</p><p>She scrolls through the file, the high security S.H.I.E.L.D. file that someone somehow had access to, scrolls all the way down past the transcript and to the handwritten scanned page. The one she looked at earlier.</p><p><em>“You know how to find me,”</em> the note said. Did she? Daisy had no recollection, no internal bullet list of ways to contact Gordon. </p><p>There’s only one thing she could think of; and it feels painfully obvious and wrong. But she has no better plan.</p><p>She opens and closes her mouth a few times before she gets the nerve to actually speak. Daisy shuts her eyes.</p><p>“Gordon?”</p><p>A barely audible something similar to a whirring goes off momentarily. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter.</p><p>The floor creaks. Daisy opens her eyes.</p><p>“I knew you’d come around,” says Gordon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>note that i plan on adding more but i have commitment issues and the idea of starting a long fic is frankly terrifying so this shouldn't be SUPER long. this is probably going to end with some semblance of 'daisy gets her powers' and a small amount of closure</p>
<p>i did some bobbi research for this and my girl was an avenger wtf</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. answering... some of the questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Identifying the man who calls himself Gordon really isn’t as important as Jemma wants it to be. They have bigger issues, like confirming whether the additional information on the thumb drive was accurate, and if it was, if the child in question was actually <em>her</em> Daisy. The note was helpfully handwritten, so they could also scan it into the extensive S.H.I.E.L.D. database. The only thing was--</p>
<p>“Tech stuff is Daisy’s specialty,” Fitz complains as he enters a password into one of the lab’s computers for a second time.</p>
<p> Yes, that’s the issue.</p>
<p>“She’s overwhelmed, Fitz,” Jemma reasons, her heart aching for Daisy even as she says it. The brown in the room throbs as it tends to do when Daisy’s struggling, which happens more than Jemma likes. Jemma likes to think it matches her heart rate, but that bit might be bollocks. “She’s scared. So am I, frankly. She’s got a lot on her plate, and this is the last thing we need.”</p>
<p>Fitz raises his eyebrows, holding his hands away from the keyboard in a surrender.</p>
<p>Sighing, Jemma hunches over herself and hides her face in her hands. “Oh, Fitz, I’m sorry. I’m worried about her. The look on her face when we were talking earlier… she looked so helpless.”</p>
<p>“You don’t think she’d try and reach out to him, do you?”</p>
<p>Jemma scoffs. “Fitz, don’t be stupid.” Then she stops to think about Daisy for a minute, the Daisy she knows and loves, who still drives her insane from time to time with her slight lack of impulse control and her intense way of loving. She bites her lip. “You don’t think she’s gone and done it?”</p>
<p>Fitz wrinkles his nose. “Well, realistically… she’s probably at least considered it.”</p>
<p>She purses her lips and looks at Fitz’s screen, which is running the data. “How long is that going to take? Is there anything else I can do?”</p>
<p>Fitz sighs. “Just go, Simmons. I can feel your anxiety from here, and you know how horrible I am with people.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Fitz, thank you! I could kiss you! But I won’t--” she quickly adds at the look of disgust on his face. She gets to her feet, pushing her chair in and letting her feet carry her to their shared room as her mind races trying to think of all the things that might help soothe a worrying Daisy. She should make sure Daisy has sharpened pencils and a lot of empty pages in her pad, that’s for sure. </p>
<p>Jemma’s not sure drawing away trauma is an entirely healthy coping mechanism, but she can certainly think of worse, so she’s let it slide. Perhaps now is a good time to confront it. While fresh trauma’s being dug up.</p>
<p>The colors (of which there are admittedly few of, as is the case in all S.H.I.E.L.D. bases, as Jemma is learning) on the walls start to blend together as Jemma walks. It’s something they tended to do when she first could see all of them. The pain of just existing the first week after she kissed Daisy for the first time was measurable only in the amount of painkillers her and Daisy consumed as a collective unit (of course she would do it again in a heartbeat to get to be with Daisy, but that was a different story), and one of the side effects of suddenly gaining sight to colors at once (beside the splitting headache, of course) was that they blended together. They still did it from time to time, usually when Jemma was feeling a rush of emotions. Specifically anxiety, or worry, or concern… any of the many things she was feeling right now.</p>
<p>She couldn’t explain the discomfort she felt as she entered the proper code into the keypad on their door handle and slid the door open. She couldn’t explain why she could hear her heart as she stepped inside, the brown of the door pounding in time with her heart beat.</p>
<p>She can explain it somewhat when she finds the room empty.</p>
<p>“Very funny, Dee,” she says, sliding the shower curtain back.</p>
<p>But Daisy isn’t hiding in the shower. She’s not waiting for Jemma with puffed up cheeks because she has to hold her breath to keep from laughing once she hears the door open and knows Jemma’s inside. Daisy is nowhere to be found.</p>
<p>She’s not hiding under the covers, or under the bed, or in the closet (get it?).</p>
<p>And Jemma’s sinking feeling suddenly gets much worse.</p>
<p>Doing the only thing she can think of, she takes her phone out of her pocket and dials in the number.</p>
<p><em>“Agent Simmons?”</em> Coulson says, sounding rather out of breath.  <em>“No offense, but this isn’t exactly office hours.”</em></p>
<p>“No offense, sir,” Jemma says, turning about the room in shock, “but this isn’t exactly an office concern.”</p>
<p>He sighs. <em>“What did Daisy do? Do you need me?”</em></p>
<p>“Your clearance level. Daisy said she was going to bed, but I’ve gone to go to bed, and she’s not here. I’m worried she may have…”</p>
<p><em>“Dammit. Hold on, Jemma. Thank you for calling. Let me just…”</em> Jemma can make out the sound of typing in the background of the phone call. Coulson’s defeated sigh tells Jemma everything she needs to know, but the words resonate deeply anyway. <em>“She’s not on base.”</em></p>
<p>Jemma’s voice sounds hollow even to herself. “Splendid. Thanks, Agent Coulson.” She hangs up amid his requests to stay on the line and stay where she is.</p>
<p>Through all her calculations and worries (that shirt wasn’t on the bed earlier, was that a footprint she saw on the floor?) Jemma makes a note to add “curiosity intense enough to forgo personal needs” to the list of similarities between herself and her lovely, foolish soulmate.</p>
<p>She cups the hula dancer Daisy put on their vanity on the day they moved in, the first tear trickling down her cheek. The brown wood thrums faster and harder than before, as if even Jemma’s eyes can sense the turmoil her heart is facing. “Oh, Daisy. What have you done?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>a short chapter in exchange for jemma pov. i think i'm gonna alternate between daisy and jemma? that's the plan, though i may deviate from it now and again. general info: i hope to get updates up at least weekly but make no promises (mental health over updates and all that).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. welcome to afterlife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daisy says the first thing that comes to mind. “How the hell did you get in here?”</p><p>Gordon smiles his sickly sweet smile. “You’ll see in a moment. You’ve called me, it’s time to go home.” He reaches forward, grabbing tightly to Daisy’s wrists. She’s about to protest the movement when she hears the strange whirring sound again and the world shakes before her eyes. She shuts them when she gags from the sensation going through her, a pricking all over her body, like a thousand needles are all poking her at once. The blue light is strong enough to shine through her closed eyelids.</p><p>It ends as quickly as it began, Gordon releases her hands, and she leans over, heaving up nothing as Gordon chuckles behind her.</p><p>“First time teleportation is never fun,” he says, dusting off his hands. </p><p>Daisy clears her throat, standing up and getting a good look at her surroundings for the first time. “Home?” she asks, surveying the garden in front of her. Tranquil. Perfectly nice. She’s simply never seen it before.</p><p>Gordon catches onto her unspoken meaning. “Yes, well, it will be, in time.”</p><p>Daisy looks around at the gravel pathways and boxes of planters with suspicion. “Any chance you can give me an exact address for where I am right now?”</p><p>Gordon outright laughs. “We’ll see about that. In the meantime, welcome to Afterlife.”</p><p>“<em>That’s</em> what you call it?”</p><p>“More than just the garden.” Gordon starts walking again, towards the distant red structure. “Come along, now. There are people you need to meet.”</p><p>Daisy reluctantly falls into step behind him, wondering where on earth he could have taken her for the sun to be in the sky when it was night a moment ago. The world is still a little blurry from what Gordon called teleporting, and, judging on where she just was and where she is now… Daisy can’t say it seems out of the question. </p><p>Lost in thought, she falls behind Gordon. She only notices when he reaches the entrance of the red building and turns to her, holding the door, and she’s a few more than a step behind. Picking up the pace, she glances behind at the garden one final time. What has she gotten herself into?</p><p>&lt;&gt;</p><p>Daisy often prided herself on her ability to navigate the various S.H.I.E.L.D. bases she grew up in, what with all their hallways and dark corners and weird hidden rooms.</p><p>Given that experience, she can safely say that she would not be able to navigate the depths of the red building as things currently stand. It’s more well lit than any S.H.I.E.L.D. base she’s ever been in, for sure, with more windows and paintings on the walls. Homier. But it also feels off, as if they hired an interior decorator and told them their tastes were classic instead of mid-century modern.</p><p>If this were a S.H.I.E.L.D. base, of course, and Daisy were an outsider, she’d have been blindfolded a long time ago. </p><p>Still.</p><p>Gordon leads her down yet another hallway, which really doesn’t seem that different from the rest. It isn’t the longest she’s walked down today, but it isn’t the shortest, either. It ends with a rather ordinary looking door, which Gordon knocks on.</p><p>A distant voice says, “Come in,” and the door opens. Gordon looks at Daisy and nods towards the now cracked open door.</p><p>Daisy points at herself, confused. Gordon nods, motioning once again for her to move.</p><p>Daisy steps inside, putting her training to good use and scanning the room for possible danger points and possible exits. </p><p>Most clearly noticeable is the woman sitting behind the desk. Calm, smiling, with long, dark, hair pulled back in a braid. Two scars on her face that only make Daisy more curious. She beams when she sees Daisy.</p><p>The woman gets to her feet as Gordon follows Daisy into what appears to be an office, shutting the door behind them.</p><p>“Daisy,” the woman says, walking around the desk separating them and taking one of Daisy’s hands.</p><p>Daisy waves, getting a weird feeling from the touch of the woman. Her alarm bells are going off, but she also feels vaguely comforted. Like the stranger in front of her is familiar somehow.</p><p>“Daisy,” Gordon says, stepping forward, “this is Jiaying. Jiaying, this is Daisy.” He looks at Daisy pointedly. “Jiaying has kindly offered to help guide you.”</p><p>“Guide me?” Daisy asks, stepping backwards. “Guide me through what?”</p><p>Jiaying and Gordon share a look filled with many words that they don’t speak aloud.</p><p>“For now, I’ll just be answering any questions you may have about that file we gave you,” Jiaying says, nodding. </p><p>“When can I go home?” </p><p>Jiaying’s smile falls. “We’ll worry about that later.”</p><p>Daisy wants to protest, but she came here for a reason, and she hasn’t fulfilled it yet. Winging it is her usual style, why stop now?</p><p>She sighs, and pulls up a chair. “So, we’re talking real answers, right? No dodging? Real answers?”</p><p>Jiaying smiles and sits back down behind her desk. “Anything.”</p><p>Gordon leaves the room as Daisy prepares her questions.</p><p>She waits for the door to shut again to ask her first question. “Was the file fake? The information you had on my file?”</p><p>“Which information?” </p><p>Daisy falters. “The… the bit. About the village.”</p><p>“Ah.” Jiaying’s face darkens. “I’m afraid so.”</p><p>Daisy lets that sink in, feeling the new weight on her chest, the weight of a village's worth of people who died to make sure she lived. Tongue feeling like lead, she speaks. “Why?”</p><p>Jiaying hesitates before speaking. “You have a gift, Daisy.”</p><p>She snorts. “What, you have a welcome gift basket for me?”</p><p>“No. A… literal gift. It’s in your DNA. Gordon brought you here, you saw the garden?”</p><p>Daisy nods, beginning to go numb in her toes.</p><p>“That’s where we take people once they’ve become stable enough after they go through terrigenesis, as a way to reintroduce them to a new environment to help them adjust to the differences they’re experiencing.”</p><p>“Terra-what?”</p><p>Jiaying smiles. “Terrigenesis. It’s the process that our people go through when they receive their gift.”</p><p>“I still don’t know what you mean when you say ‘gift’,” Daisy says, unsure if she really wants to hear the answer.</p><p>“You’ve met Gordon,” Jiaying says. “You may have noticed, but he doesn’t have physical eyes. In exchange, he can go wherever he wants whenever he wants. It took him a lot of time and effort, but he has full control of his gift, and has embraced it as who he is.”</p><p>“Woah. Hold on. So when you say gift, you mean, like, superpower?”</p><p>Jiaying sighs. “There is some overlap. My gift, for example, wouldn’t exactly help me win a fight.”</p><p>Daisy waits for her to finish the sentence, but she doesn’t, so Daisy bites. “What’s your gift?”</p><p>“I age slowly. Very slowly.” Daisy would laugh, but Jiaying’s face is solemn as she says it, and she realizes that Jiaying is being serious.</p><p>“Well, I guess that would not help you in a fight.”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>“And… you’re saying I have a gift?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“We won’t know until you go through terrigenesis. It’s impossible to predict what gift you have beforehand.”</p><p>Daisy pulls on a loose thread in her pants. “So you willingly went through that terrigenesis without knowing what would happen to you on the other side?”</p><p>Jiaying nods, her face a mask of seriousness. “I had faith that I would overcome whatever struggle terrigenesis brought me and that I would overcome it. I did, and here I am.” </p><p>Daisy has a terrible sneaking feeling that she already knows the answer to her question. She asks anyway. “Right, okay. And why am I here?”</p><p>Jiaying tilts her head, eyebrows furrowed. “Why, Daisy? Isn’t it obvious? We want to give you the opportunity to put your birthright to good use. We want you to receive your gift and go through terrigenesis.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i kinda don't like this chapter, but it's up! it's not my favorite but i don't know what else to do for it, so, for now, here you all go :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. now (still) in color!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Investigation of the room and more in depth viewing of the security footage shows that Daisy had indeed returned to the room. She’d gone into the bathroom, come out with wet hair and different clothes (presumably showered), and sat on the bed for a while, looking sad and lonely and staring at her hula dancer on their vanity. </p><p>The footage itself makes Jemma sad. Anyone could see the pain in Daisy’s eyes, how had she missed it? Dismissed her for work of all things? </p><p>“Stop it,” Fitz says, breaking the silence that had consumed the lab all morning.</p><p>Jemma looks up from the footage, pausing it near the fifteen minute mark of Daisy sitting in contemplative silence. “I haven’t done anything.”</p><p>“You’re thinking it,” Fitz says. “Stop that.”</p><p>“But Fitz, what if I’m the reason they got her?”</p><p>“That. That’s exactly what you need to stop thinking.”</p><p>“It’s true, though,” Jemma says, putting down the device for fear she’ll fling it away in her disappointment. “If I’d just gone back with her when she said she was going to bed I would’ve been there when they came for her.”</p><p>“They might have just taken you too, Simmons,” Fitz says, clearly trying his best to be gentle when it was not his forte. </p><p>“At least I’d be with her that way,” Jemma sighs, wiping away the first of the tears with the hope that more don’t follow.</p><p>“Look, as things are, she’s probably fine. It’s only been a few hours, remember?”</p><p>“A few hours too long,” Jemma says, aware of her voice rising in tone but not quite aware enough to stop it. “Fitz, she could be dead by now.”</p><p>“She’s not.”</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“Wouldn’t you stop seeing color?”</p><p>Jemma goes quiet. How could she have forgotten?</p><p>“Of course,” she whispers. “As long as I can still see color… she has to be alive.”</p><p>The notion had calmed her down, calmed her enough that Fitz approaches and wraps his arms around her.</p><p>“It’s going to be okay, Jemma. We’re going to find her. I miss her, too.”</p><p>Jemma’s head hits his shirt, which smells fresh, unlike her own, which was the same she’d been wearing the night before when she walked into the room to find Daisy only to discover the terrible emptiness.</p><p>In the moment, clothes had been a complete second thought, something unimportant when Jemma could be doing something to help find Daisy, but now they were all she could think about.</p><p>Where the fragrance of Fitz’s laundry detergent had been filling her head only seconds before, now all Jemma could smell was the remainders of Daisy on her shirt. Conditioner from after she showered and leaned on Jemma long enough to leave a wet stain. She’d giggled and apologized, but Jemma had, in the moment, enjoyed the scent. The daisy scented perfume she wore to professional meetings. She liked to spritz some onto Jemma, mostly to get her reaction, which was always good. Jemma could never help but swoon when the smell hit her, it was the namesake for her soulmate, after all.</p><p>Now the scent brings bile to her throat, and just that fact makes Jemma further upset.</p><p>Fists balled into Fitz’s sweater, she says, “I have to shower.”</p><p>Fitz let her go, stepping back and smoothing out his front. “Okay. Alright, yeah, go ahead, don’t let me stop you.”</p><p>Jemma nods once, starts moving, and falters. “Fitz?” she asks, her voice a notch higher than normal.</p><p>Fitz, who was going back to his work, looks up again. “Simmons?”</p><p>“Do you think…” Jemma hesitates, looking at her feet. “Could I use your shower?”</p><p>A look goes across his face, like, ‘of course’, and in that moment, Jemma hates him, too. “Yeah, that’s no problem. I’ll just… I can show you to it and let you in and I can go get you a change of clothes?”</p><p>She softens, regretting the moment of anger. “Oh, Fitz, would you?”</p><p>“Of course, Jemma. Come on, now, I’ll show you.”</p><p> Fitz walks out of the lab and down the hall, walking past the kitchen and bathrooms, down the familiar path to their bunks. The walk itself isn’t new, nor is the door Fitz walks up to. Jemma’s been in Fitz’s room before, though not often, since they don’t spend much time in their rooms except for sleeping, but she does need the key that he pulls out of his pocket in order to get in.</p><p>Fitz puts the key in the knob, turns, and, just like that, the door clicks open.</p><p>“There you are,” Fitz says, gesturing for Jemma to walk inside. “Make yourself at home, whatever you need.”</p><p>Jemma wraps him in another hug, partly out of gratitude and partly out of needing something to do with her emotions. “Thank you,” she says in his ear.</p><p>He pats her back awkwardly, never the best with affection. “Yeah, no problem, Simmons.”</p><p>When they part, Jemma fumbles in her pocket for her own key, passing it over to Fitz.</p><p>“The clothes hanging on the left are mine, the right side is Daisy’s.”</p><p>Fitz accepts the key with a nod. “Right. Thanks. I’ll leave them outside the door, probably. Just in case.”</p><p>It’s the first time Jemma wants to laugh all day. “Right. I’ll see you soon?”</p><p>Fitz nods. “See you soon.” With that, he turns and walks back in the direction of Jemma’s room, and Jemma steps inside his.</p><p>An upside of showering in Fitz’s bathroom that she hadn’t considered was that the scents were different. The lavender of Daisy’s conditioner is replaced by something vaguely minty and herbal (Jemma can’t really tell from the label, which is ‘rugged fresh cabin’). It makes the air sharp through her nostrils, but at least it doesn’t make her nauseous.</p><p>Jemma normally showers methodically, rarely taking a pause to enjoy the feeling of water running over her body, or the peaceful clashing of the drops hitting the floor. That Jemma, though, isn’t usually in a state of complete mental distress, nor is she a minute away from snapping and spiralling into a mental breakdown. To compensate, Jemma tilts her head back and lets the water wash it all away. All of it. The soap, the suds, the grime, the tears. The only thing the water doesn’t touch is the worry gripping her stomach. She can’t do much about that, though, so she turns off the faucet and pulls back the curtain, wrapping herself in a towel and sitting down on the floor to contemplate life for a while longer.</p><p>She eventually crawls to the door, cracking it just enough to drag the clothes in that Fitz has kindly dropped off outside. Jemma puts them on in a trance, such that she puts her shirt on backwards and has to take it off and try again. </p><p>Feeling refreshed if not well rested, Jemma returns to the lab and to work.</p><p>“Are the clothes alright?” Fitz asks, looking up from his project with wide, concerned eyes.</p><p>“Yes, Fitz, they’re fine, thank you,” Jemma says, trying her best to smile. He smiles back, and goes back to his work.</p><p>Jemma does the same, walking to her station and turning on her computer. She turns it on with the intention of checking the results of the tests she was running on a piece of hair they found on the floor of her and Daisy’s room, but is struck by an idea. Tech is Daisy’s specialty, as Fitz was constantly reminding her, hacking especially. She’d tried to teach Jemma the basics, but hadn’t gotten very far. The ending of training had left them little time for anything other than work and themselves. They had been adjusting nicely, Jemma thought, but now here they are.</p><p>The idea comes nonetheless.</p><p>Jemma opens a new window and tries her best to recall Daisy’s instructions from a few months ago. Typing in keywords and remembering passwords… it’s difficult, to say the least. After several unsuccessful attempts, Jemma does something right (she’s not sure what) and gets in. The website is simple, and, according to Daisy, well protected. It has a very simple function: communication.</p><p>Jemma never thought it would come in handy in a situation like this, but hey, she’s not complaining.</p><p>Most of the messages are from when Daisy was trying to teach Jemma, fooling around and joking. Lots of ramble-y sentences and ‘ily’s. There aren’t any messages from the past month.</p><p>Jemma sighs and looks back at the piece of hair, which is safely stored away in an air-tight container. Now what? What Jemma should do is close the encrypted window and go back to doing her job. Because her job will help her find Daisy. So why can’t she bring herself to click over the lit up ‘x’?</p><p>
  <em>Ding.</em>
</p><p>With a frown, Jemma looks back at the website’s screen, at all the words typed out in black and white.</p><p>She’s surprised to find new words at the very bottom. The send time reads ‘now’.</p><p>
  <em>Hey. Can’t say much. Not sure what I would say if I could say more, tbh. I’m okay, I think? I love you. I’m sorry. -D</em>
</p><p>Jemma claps a hand over her mouth. “Fitz?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. bad girl shenanigans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>back at afterlife, for better or worse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daisy turns off her phone the minute the message is sent, too worried about Jemma’s response and that somehow Afterlife can sense that she’s reaching out and it’ll get her in trouble somehow. Normally trouble is something that happens quite a lot to Daisy, and, for the most part, she’s come to terms with it. She can handle being known for getting into tight spots. As long as she gets out of them, everything should be fine. The problem comes with Afterlife. For reasons Daisy can’t quite place, she doesn’t want to get in trouble with Jiaying. Daisy feels drawn to her in a way she can’t explain, and she doesn’t want to disappoint her by doing something bad.</p>
<p>She has no definitive proof, but based on the fact that Gordon refused to tell her the exact location of Afterlife, Daisy’s pretty sure she’s not supposed to be in contact with anyone outside of Afterlife. Sending the message to Jemma is a risk, but it’s a risk Daisy’s willing to take. Guilt has already settled in her gut at leaving Jemma with no explanation, so really, a vague message over a site she isn’t even sure Jemma will think to check is the least she can do.</p>
<p>The phone lands with a thump on the gray sheets of the room Jiaying showed her to. It rattles the bed underneath Daisy, the shaking lasting no longer than a moment or two. It startles Daisy nonetheless, enough to remind her of the time. Past three a.m., yet she hasn’t gone to bed yet, nor does she particularly want to.</p>
<p>Based on the things about Afterlife she’s been meticulously noting and the differences between where she was before and where she is now, Daisy’s pretty sure that she’s travelled far enough for there to be a time difference. For one thing, it was nearly midnight when she left the base, and when she arrived in the garden at Afterlife, the sun was out. </p>
<p>Considering she had been about to go to sleep nearly a day ago at this point, Daisy should probably be exhausted. As luck, or some sort of curse, would have it, though, she’s wide awake. As a matter of fact, the thought of trying to lay down on the bed beneath her and go to sleep is unappealing.</p>
<p>Daisy tries to picture exactly what Jiaying said to her when she bid her goodnight. Was there any strict ‘no snooping around at night’ policy mentioned? Is there such a thing? Will Daisy get in trouble, by default disappoint Jiaying if she does?</p>
<p>It doesn’t seem the soundest plan, but Daisy has nothing better, so she tucks her phone back into the pocket of her jacket and tries the door knob. Mercifully unlocked. She would start getting worried if her door were locked, but, as it isn’t, she steps outside in silence, the door shutting behind her in a similar manner. Moonlight lights the corridors through the windows, setting rays of different colored light shooting through the hall from the stained glass. It casts strange shadows on Daisy as she tiptoes down the hallway, the opposite from which she came.</p>
<p>With sleep uninterested in coming, Daisy has only one better option. Exploring.</p>
<p>For a long time, she only passes other rooms. Closed doors, and, when they’re open, all that’s inside is a room similar to the one given to her. Bed, a painting, dresser, a mirror. Not boring on its own, per se, but it does get boring once it becomes repetitive. </p>
<p>Finally, after just enough rooms that she’s wondering if maybe bed is more interesting than Afterlife, Daisy finds a crossroad. The hall to the right is well lit, with more doors identical to the ones she’s passed lining the walls at even intervals. The hall to the left has fewer doors and less overhead lights, giving it a dimmer look. Assuming the hall to the right holds nothing but more bedrooms, Daisy elects to turn left, skimming the doors for anything interesting.</p>
<p>She finds nothing for a long time, only rooms of empty beds that look more like something from a hospital, which does worry her a fair amount. It could just be an infirmary, but what if there’s a bigger reason they need it? The set-up almost reminds her of the lab back at base, which is what really sets her off.</p>
<p>Daisy pokes her head in one of the rooms which has it’s light on, getting a better look at the thin padded piece of furniture in the middle of the room, which is similar to a dentist’s chair. She’s looking around at the other furniture--a fold-up chair, a table with a sink and some cabinets--when the sound of feet clicking on the floor resonates behind her. She quickly steps into the room and presses her back against the wall, leaning only enough to try and catch a glimpse of who walks past. Dark hair, now out of a braid, and an intensely familiar look in her eyes.</p>
<p>Jiaying walks past Daisy's hiding place without sparing a second glance, the sound of her walking telling Daisy that she turns into the room just past Daisy’s. After checking to ensure that the coast is clear, Daisy lets out a breath of relief, sagging against the wall. That was too close. Daisy rolls out her neck, wondering if she should abandon ship and go back to her room. Coming up with no better options, she pokes her head out into the hallway to ensure that the coast is clear. She doesn’t see anyone, but catches shadows moving on the wall across from the room Jiaying walked into. Next she hears the voices. Distant, soft enough that she can’t make out what they’re saying.</p>
<p>Thoughts of leaving evaporating as quickly as they came, Daisy rushes to the wall connecting her hiding place to the room next door, Jiaying’s room.</p>
<p>With her ear pressed against the wall, cold against her ear, Daisy can make out the words, at least a little better.</p>
<p>“Just because you were right about her doesn’t excuse you.” That voice belongs to Jiaying, at least, Daisy’s pretty sure it does.</p>
<p>“What will it take?” That voice is new. Daisy has no idea who it is. “I’ll tell you as soon as I see it. Put my gift to good use. Do you want to know if she’ll go through with receiving her gift? If you allow her? What happens with that job of hers?”</p>
<p>“You and I both know it’s more than just a job,” Jiaying says. “She thinks they’re her family.”</p>
<p>“So show her otherwise,” the unknown voice says. “Surely they won’t accept her if she gets her gift. She’ll go back, realize they hate her true self, and come running back to you.”</p>
<p>“It could take a while, depending on what gift she winds up with, if it appears magical on the surface, or if it’s payment is visible.”</p>
<p>“Like mine?” the stranger’s voice is colder, and the room falls into silence. Daisy keeps her ear glued to the wall, not wanting to miss anything. She barely breathes for fear of being unable to hear. Her nighttime snooping has gotten much more interesting, and is now very much worth it.</p>
<p>“Raina, I didn’t mean to--”</p>
<p>“Shh!” The stranger’s command cuts through the room, and silence falls once again. “I’m seeing something,” they say eventually, breaking the quiet.</p>
<p>“What is it?”</p>
<p>Another pause. </p>
<p>Then, “Her. She’s here. You should go talk to her. She’s confused.”</p>
<p>Jiaying doesn’t say anything in response, but Daisy can soon hear the sounds once again of shoes on the wood floor. Weirdly, they sound like they’re moving towards her. </p>
<p>“Daisy. What are you doing out of bed? Aren’t you tired?”</p>
<p>She whirls around in surprise to find Jiaying standing at the door, head tilted, eyes crinkled in a smile.</p>
<p>“Uh,” she stutters, looking for an excuse. “I, um, couldn’t… I couldn’t sleep. Do you happen to have, like, melatonin, or something?”</p>
<p>Jiaying chuckles. “Raina is new to her gift. We suspect that she may have the ability to see the future before it happens, she’ll get glimpses from time to time. What at first seemed like coincidences have become…” she clears her throat. “More obvious evidence. Would you care for a walk?”</p>
<p>Caught in the act and unsure of why there don’t appear to be negative repercussions, Daisy agrees. They turn right leaving Daisy’s hiding room, away from the room containing the mysterious Raina, and back the way Daisy came. Jiaying knows her way around better, though, and quite quickly, they’re in a section of the building that Daisy doesn’t recognize.</p>
<p>After five minutes of walking in silence, Jiaying leads Daisy out of the twisting and turning hallways and staircases and into a room. Several computer screens fill the cramped room, stacked on top of a desk with a single abandoned chair. The monitors provide all of the light in the room, various scenes moving along. What she’s looking at doesn’t register until Daisy looks at the screen in the top right, and recognizes the garden, now empty and in the dark. Security cameras.</p>
<p>“This is Afterlife,” Jiaying says, a look of pride on her face. “All of it. I brought you here because I want to show you all of us.”</p>
<p>Daisy absorbs the words in silence, watching as Jiaying directs her attention to the screen at the bottom left. The room in it is similar to the one Daisy was hiding in only a few minutes ago. The only differences are in the paint color on the walls and the fact that there’s someone sitting on the dentist’s chair. Someone who, upon further examination, appears to have thorns. On their head, instead of hair, sharp looking thorns that remind Daisy of a porcupine’s quills stick out.</p>
<p>“That,” Jiaying says, “is Raina. She received her gift without our permission, outside of Afterlife, and came to us only afterwards.”</p>
<p>“Are those… thorns?” Daisy asks, squinting at the blurry image.</p>
<p>Jiaying’s lips form a thin smile. “All gifts come with a payment. Raina’s was the loss of her hair and the receiving of, as you call them, thorns.”</p>
<p>“Does that happen to everyone?” Daisy asks, transfixed.</p>
<p>“You don’t see thorns on me, do you?”</p>
<p>Daisy looks her up and down warily. “I guess not.”</p>
<p>Jiaying moves on to a new screen, pointing at the screen in the bottom left beside Raina. The room is dark, with no furnishings. Inside it stand four women, all of them in the same clothes and with the same red hair. As Daisy watches, a fourth appears, and then a fifth.</p>
<p>“Alisha just went through terrigenesis yesterday,” Jiaying says, watching the screen with what seems to be fondness. “She’s still learning how to control her gift.”</p>
<p>“She can duplicate herself?” Daisy asks, watching in shock as one of the women disappears.</p>
<p>“She can.” As Jiaying speaks, all but one of the women disappear, and she sits down, head buried in her arms. “Recovery time ranges from one to another, the recovery process is very personalized to the needs of the individual.”</p>
<p>“How long will she be in there?”</p>
<p>Jiaying looks at her as if she’s asked a stupid question, which, maybe she has. “As long as is necessary.”</p>
<p>Daisy can’t quite take her eyes off the woman. Alisha. Wonders how she would feel locked in that room, alone. </p>
<p>“What’s it like?”</p>
<p>“Hmm?”</p>
<p>“Terrigenesis. What does it feel like?”</p>
<p>Jiaying smiles. “The experience is unique to everyone, but I must admit I was hoping you were going to ask that.” She sits down in the chair by the desk and pulls out a keyboard, fingers flying as she types. The footage of the camera shows Alisha sitting on the floor of the dark room whizzes, showing skipping images of her and her doubles in various other positions until--the frame freezes, showing only one Alisha, and, weirdly, Gordon.</p>
<p>“Watch,” Jiaying whispers, hitting a button as the camera begins to play again. Gordon holds onto Alisha with one arm and, with the other, what appears to be a crystal. Alisha shakes her shoulder, shaking her head and lips moving rapidly in speech Daisy can’t hear. Gordon only shakes his head once, looking down at Alisha with a smile. Unceremoniously, he releases Alisha’s arm and backs toward the door. Before he leaves, he drops the crystal. It hits the floor and shatters just as the door shuts behind him. Alisha’s shoulders sag while the crystal dissolves, turning into a black fog, which spreads across the floor, inching its way towards Alisha, who doesn’t move, apparently accepting her fate.</p>
<p>Daisy watches in horror as the fog approaches Alisha. As it reaches her feet, Daisy expects pained yells, or perhaps more smoke. What she gets instead, is a casing that begins making its way over Alisha, starting at her bare feet and making its way to her torso. Alisha appears horrified, but doesn’t move. Maybe the stone-looking casing doesn’t allow her to. It reaches her chest, spreading down her arms. It covers her face next. The last things to go are her fingers, which wiggle desperately yet helplessly. </p>
<p>The stone statue of Alisha is unmoving. The black fog vanished as soon as it came, leaving the room dark and still.</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” Daisy says, watching in horror.</p>
<p>“Just wait,” Jiaying says, facing the screens.</p>
<p>She hits a button, and the time marker in the right corner starts moving faster. After nearly ten minutes, the stone cracks. Right down the middle. The casing over her fingers goes first, followed by her arms when Alisha bends her elbows. As Alisha struggles to free herself from the casing, she twitches violently and a second version of herself appears, casing-free, who immediately moves to tug some of the black material off her back. Original Alisha freezes, and the second Alisha disappears. She shudders again and two more Alisha’s appear, and have Alisha the first free in no time. Once the job is done, they both disappear, and Alisha drops to her knees.</p>
<p>Jiaying freezes the frame once again, turning to Daisy with a wide smile. “Incredible, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Is it painful?” Daisy asks, unable to look away from Alisha, shaking on her knees.</p>
<p>“Excruciating. It’s something we endure, though, to become our true selves.”</p>
<p>“Our true selves?” Daisy asks, tearing her gaze away to look at Jiaying.</p>
<p>“Of course,” she says, as though it’s obvious. “Who we were destined to become.”</p>
<p>Daisy snorts. “I don’t think I’m meant to become anything.”</p>
<p>Jiaying looks at Daisy, her eyes saying something her words don’t, something Daisy doesn’t know. “Raina’s been having visions. She would disagree.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, do I look like someone who would willingly go through torture like that for my ‘birghtright’?” She puts quotations around ‘birthright’.</p>
<p>Jiaying tilts her head. “Don’t you want to know who you were meant to be?”</p>
<p>Daisy falls silent. Because, really? She does want to know. Bad. </p>
<p>“You should go back to your room,” Jiaying says as if she can sense Daisy's hesitance. </p>
<p>Sleep doesn’t sound terrible, anymore, so Daisy lets Jiaying show her the way back to her room and shut the door behind her again.</p>
<p>She lays down and shuts her eyes, falling asleep as she tries to fend off thoughts of Alisha and terrigenesis. She wouldn’t do that. Right?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this chapter is a little longer than the past few have been, i did my best. thank you for reading !</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. just a hint of pesto aoili</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>fun fact this chapter is 10(69) words long tehe</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bobbi stops by the lab during lunch. Fitz has left, gone to the kitchen to make himself lunch, but Jemma can’t bring herself to leave the computer. Daisy is yet to respond to her, but Jemma’s sure that the minute she leaves is the minute her response will come.</p><p>“Did you sleep last night?”</p><p>Jemma looks away from the screen to find Bobbi, standing with an elbow on her desk, bag in hand. “Is it that obvious?”</p><p>“You resemble a raccoon a little more than the norm.”</p><p>“Thanks, for that, really.”</p><p>Bobbi cracks a grin. “But, I did bring you lunch.” She hands over the bag. “Courtesy of Fitz. He seemed very proud of himself. Some sort of ‘magical sandwich?’”</p><p>“Oh!” Jemma opens the bag excitedly, pressing her nose to the bag and taking a whiff. “Prosciutto, buffalo mozzarella, and--”</p><p>“Just a <em>hint</em> of pesto aioli?” Bobbi asks. “Yeah, he was kinda going on about that last part.”</p><p>“Oh, Fitz.” Jemma smiles at the sandwich despite the fact that Fitz likely can’t sense her being thankful for it from several rooms away. “Will you thank him for me?”</p><p>Bobbi pushes off the table to stand upright. “Nope.”</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“Because you are coming with me.”</p><p>Jemma frowns. “Bobbi--”</p><p>“No ‘but’s. Even if I didn’t need an excuse to get you into some daylight, Director wants to speak with you.”</p><p>“Coulson?” Jemma asks, letting Bobbi wrap their arms together and lead her out of the lab.</p><p>Bobbi smirks. “No.”</p><p>“Then who is it?”</p><p>Bobbi at least has the decency to look a little sympathetic. “That’s classified.”</p><p>The Director, as it turns out, surprisingly, is Nick Fury. He sits in a large leather chair at the head of the table, which is the largest and only piece of furniture in the room other than the chairs beneath it. A small stack of papers sit in front of him, which he flips through, a scowl on his face.</p><p> Jemma nearly audibly squeaks when she sees him in the room, instead tightening her grip around Bobbi’s wrist.</p><p>“I know,” she says, grinning and leading Jemma to a seat.</p><p>Fury looks up as Jemma sits down, nodding to Bobbi as she takes a seat herself.</p><p>“Agent Simmons?” he says.</p><p>Jemma nods. “Yes, sir. Er--if you don’t mind me asking, what am I doing here?”</p><p>“Well, we’re just waiting for--” the door opens again, and Coulson and May step through, cool expressions on their faces. Fury grimaces. “Them. Phil, Melinda, have a seat.”</p><p>They pull up chairs, sitting down across from Bobbi and Jemma.</p><p>“I’m sorry we’re late, Director Fury,” Coulson says. “Melinda just got back off the quinjet, because she got back on it but when word came about Daisy--uh, I mean, Agent Johnson--”</p><p>Fury holds up a hand. “Enough. I got it, no more explanation needed. Now, we all know why we’re here. Coulson, your report?”</p><p>Coulson takes a deep breath and launches into explaining the details of Daisy’s disappearance, but Jemma knows all the details, has been going over them in her mind constantly for twenty four hours straight, and so she lets herself zone out. Her attention lands on May, who grimaces and asks Jemma to call her Melinda whenever Jemma calls her ‘May’.<em> ‘Makes her feel old’</em>, Colson explains, who has also asked her countless times to call him Phil. </p><p>Daisy has described to her in twilight hours of the night, when they can’t see anything or feel anyone but each other, and despite the large size of their bed choose to remain wrapped up in a ball, the subtle way her mother shows emotion, that there’s a subtle difference in her expression when she’s angry, or sad. Jemma’s never been able to see it. Now, with May’s face as cool as ever, Jemma can almost see a slightly more intense than normal furrow in May’s brow, a more pronounced purse in her lip.</p><p>Daisy would be proud, if she were there to see, or to be giddily whispered too.</p><p>Jemma will have to start a list of things to tell Daisy when she gets back. </p><p>With nothing better to do, she starts the list in her head. The first thing will be simple. <em>I love you.</em> Number two, perhaps: <em>I don’t care if it’s in the job description, you will never fucking do this to me again</em>. Number three: <em>I know what you mean about your Mum. With her facial expressions.</em> Number four: <em>I wish you’d been there to see it</em>.</p><p>Jemma ends the list before she starts crying (again), and tries to listen without straying again as Coulson gives a painfully detailed account of receiving a phone call from Jemma and finding out Daisy had left base.</p><p>“She went missing between 11:40 and one in the morning.” Coulson looks down at the table. “We have no idea where she could have gone, if it was a case of kidnapping, or if she left.”</p><p>Fury sighs. “And no contact?”</p><p>Coulson shakes his head. </p><p>“Actually, sir,” Jemma says, nervous to be under Fury’s intense gaze. “She contacted me through a chat website she made when she was trying to teach me to code.”</p><p>“What?” Fury demands. “What did she say? When did she send it? Did she give you a location?”</p><p>Jemma flinches at the onslaught of questions. “Shall I just take you to see it?”</p><p>“It’s in the lab?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>The Director gets to his feet with a flourish of his trench coat. “I’ll find it for myself. And Agent Simmons? Next time, that’s what you start with.”</p><p>Jemma doesn’t take another breath until the door shuts behind him with a heavy sound that bounces around the room. She can feel the eyes of all the others on her, and desperately wants an out. To press down on the mouse, which she has hovering over the ‘shut tab’ button. </p><p>Holding her breath, Jemma looks up. Bobbi is looking at her with raised eyebrows, not quite frowning, not her usual smirk, though, either. May stares with a calm expression, beneath which Jemma… can’t quite decipher what she sees. Daisy would know, which only makes her angrier. Coulson, though, watches with a glint of amusement in his eye. Taking the bait, Jemma tilts her head.</p><p>Coulson takes the invitation and puts his hands on the table, lips breaking into a grin. “Daisy tried to teach you how to code?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>have i cried over the fitzsimmons magical sandwich? that's completely irrelevant. yes. yes i have.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. early morning meetings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daisy woke to pounding on her door that sent her fumbling for her phone. It was just past nine in the morning. Maybe it was just the time difference--because the longer Daisy was away the more sure she was there there was one--but it felt harder than normal to keep her eyes open as she answered the door.</p>
<p>Gordon stood outside, hands folded calmly before him. “Daisy,” he said. “Good morning.”</p>
<p>Daisy blew a hair out of her face. “Uh, hi? Do you always get up at nine in the morning here?”</p>
<p>Gordon chuckled. “No. Jiaying wants to speak with you.”</p>
<p>“Okay. Just… give me a few minutes to get dressed?”</p>
<p>“I’ll wait outside.”</p>
<p>Daisy nodded with a smile that felt more like a grimace and shut the door. The noise irritated her head, which was aching, slightly. She put a hand to it and winced. It probably hadn’t arisen from her shenanigans the night before, and she had no idea where else the headache could have come from, so she did her best to ignore it as she got dressed.</p>
<p>The clothes in the dresser of the room she was staying in were plentiful and in a variety of sizes. It took her a few minutes alone to find something that would fit her properly. She managed it, though, and after spending a few more moments to do what she could with her hair she stepped outside into the hallway, where Gordon was indeed waiting patiently. His stance since she’d seen him last was unchanged, though he smiled at Daisy as he saw her. She nodded, and he turned and led her down the hallway.</p>
<p>She was beginning to get familiar with the layout of Afterlife. After the day and night before, she’d been out and about enough to have a vague understanding of which direction took her where. As things were, she was pretty certain she was indeed being shown to Jiaying’s office, which made sense.</p>
<p>Sure enough, Gordon soon stopped outside the very same door he’d shown her to the day before, knocking and receiving a “Come in” in return.</p>
<p>He opened the door and gestured for Daisy to go inside. This time, he didn’t follow.</p>
<p>The room was largely unchanged from when Daisy had been in it last. Same walls, same decor, Jiaying was sitting in the very same seat.</p>
<p>“Daisy,” Jiaying said, smiling. “Please, sit down.”</p>
<p>Daisy did as she was asked, sitting in the chair that was directly across from Jiaying’s desk.</p>
<p>“I asked you to come here because I want to talk to you about something important.”</p>
<p>Daisy shifted in her chair, biting down a comment on the awkwardness in the air. “Okay?”</p>
<p>Jiaying took a deep breath in and paused, looking at Daisy all the while. “You know we saw what was in your file. When we made adjustments ourselves, we saw the things about your childhood.”</p>
<p>Daisy stilled in her seat. “I’ve been with my parents since I was four,” she said. “I don’t really remember my time in the foster system.” That was a lie. She remembered. If not the time spent crystal clear, she remembered enough. The feeling of elation she felt when she first went to live with Coulson and May, as she insisted on calling them for much of the first year that she lived with them.</p>
<p>“Have you…” Jiaying paused, looking uncomfortable. “Have you ever thought about your birth parents?”</p>
<p>“I guess.” Daisy would rather have been literally anywhere else, having any other conversation. “I was more fixated on it when I was a kid. I’m kinda over it now. I don’t need them. They’re probably dead, anyway.”</p>
<p>Jiaying’s mouth had fallen slightly agape, and she shut it. “Do you even know when your birthday is?”</p>
<p>Daisy’s voice came out flat. “We’ve been celebrating it on December 29th, though it’s probably not my actual birthday.”</p>
<p>“July 2nd.” For the first time in their conversation, Jiaying looks down. “You were born on July 2nd, 1988.”</p>
<p>Her heart skips a beat. “What?”</p>
<p>Jiaying looks up and Daisy can see the tears in her eyes. “They took you from us, Daisy, and we haven’t stopped looking until we found you.”</p>
<p>Her heart pounds in her chest. Her voice cracks when she speaks. “Mom?”</p>
<p>Tears spilling down her cheeks, Jiaying nods. “So you see, Daisy, why it’s so important to us that you carry on the legacy.”</p>
<p>Tugged out of her own thought train and startled by the shift in topic. “What?”</p>
<p>Now Jiaying looks confused. “Go through terrigenesis. See who you were meant to become. Become my daughter.”</p>
<p>Daisy could only stare as Jiaying’s eyes lit up as she spoke. What had happened? How had the conversation changed so drastically so quickly?</p>
<p>“Before we get our gift we are only a shell of what we could be, of who we should be. Join me. Us. Even as you are, without your gift, you will never belong with ordinary humans. They sense our difference, don’t trust us. They will never accept us for who we are.”</p>
<p>“Mo--Jiaying, is it okay if I wait a little while? Think about it?” Daisy’s voice shakes when she speaks, but it’s not the biggest problem on her mind.</p>
<p>“Don’t you want to know? Find out who you really are?”</p>
<p>“I guess, but I want to think it over first--”</p>
<p>“Daisy.” For the first time, Daisy sees anger in Jiaying’s eyes. It makes her shiver. “Yes, or no?”</p>
<p>Daisy listens to the banging of her heart in her chest. As much as she does want to know, as much as she longs to know, she’s also desperate to stay away. God, what she would give to talk this through with Jemma. Jemma, who she can’t see, who Jiaying says would never understand. Jemma would, though. Jemma understands everything about Daisy, even things Daisy can’t understand about herself. She thinks of Jemma, looks at the brown wood of Jiaying’s desk that reminds her of Jemma, and makes up her mind.</p>
<p>“No.” She’s finally found one question she doesn’t want answered. “I, um, don’t want to go through terrigenesis. I’d rather stay human.”</p>
<p>Jiaying smiled, and, for the first time, it looked sinister. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” Her eyes flickered past Daisy. “Gordon?”</p>
<p>The door opened, and in walked Gordon, frowning. “She really said no?”</p>
<p>Jiaying nodded, looking at Daisy. “Afraid so. Do you have it?”</p>
<p>Gordon produced a crystal out of his pocket and handed it to Jiaying. “Of course.”</p>
<p>She looked at the stone clutched in her hand and smiled. “Good. You may leave.”</p>
<p>“Call me when you need me,” he said as he left, eyeing Daisy. The door clicked behind him, the last sound as the room fell into a deafening silence.</p>
<p>“Jiaying,” Daisy said, watching her mother pass the crystal between her hands. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”</p>
<p>Jiaying tore her eyes away from the crystal to look at Daisy. “You know, it’s cute that you think you really had a choice.” Jiaying held the crystal upside down and it finally hit Daisy where she’d seen one before. It was identical to the one she’d seen last night, the one that turned Alisha to stone.</p>
<p>“No,” she whispered. “No, don’t do this. You can’t. Please. No.”</p>
<p>Jiaying smiled, and dropped the crystal to the ground. “Someday you’ll thank me for this.” </p>
<p>Daisy continued to protest, her voice rising in volume as she could feel stone wrapping around her feet. It wrapped around her ankles, up to her knees. She began to cry as it reached her waist, silently wishing it were Jemma standing before her instead of Jiaying. Her Mom. Her Dad. Anyone but Jiaying. Jiaying, who held her hands as they turned to stone, who smiled and caressed her cheek as they went, too.</p>
<p>The last thought she had before the black covered her eyes was that she would have been better off without wondering about Gordon at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:(</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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